


A lot in common

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [88]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4 missing scene, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And he gets the girl, F/M, Fluff, Jaime tries to flirt, No drinking game, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: “We have so much in common, wench,” he says, making his first move.Now he has her attention, the magical pull her eyes have always managed to have on him, drawing him deep into them. “Do we?”ORThe one where Brienne leaves the feast early to escape to the peace and quiet of the moonlit star-studded sky, and Jaime, deciding it is now or never, follows her.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [88]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 27
Kudos: 100





	A lot in common

His search, at last, comes to an end when he finds her out in the open, bent over the wall, lost in the silent night above and below.

Jaime halts, measures his next words and thinks over his next move as he observes her from a distance—bathed in the moonlight, staring up into the vastness of the canopy above them, she is a sight for his sore eyes, a balm for his aching heart, a kiss to soothe every cut, heal every damage his body has suffered in the war.

The few feet between them feel like miles, his nerves the first obstacle standing between them. “Never knew celebrations bother you this much, Lady Brienne.” 

She straightens, but she doesn’t turn, and he makes it over to her, makes the patch of wall to her left his residence for the time being. His back against the cold stone she’s leaning over, he tilts his head so he can read her face, her eyes, his mind racing away wildly, speculating whether or not he’s going to make it anywhere tonight.

“I’m not much of a _people_ person,” she makes her excuse, and after a fleeting look at him, she returns to scanning the sky.

“Just like me.” He recalls how he’s had to suffer so many such occasions thanks to his father and sister. “We have so much in common, wench,” he says, making his first move.

Now he has her attention, the magical pull her eyes have always managed to have on him, drawing him deep into them. “Do we?”

Not quite the beginning he intended when he abandoned the others to seek out her company, but it’ll do for a start—somewhere, he’d have to make a beginning. “For instance, we both enjoy watching the stars,” he gives it his first shot, “and the full moon in all its splendour and beauty.”

“You do?” She looks—amused or suspicious, he can’t exactly make out. “Now that’s a surprise.”

“That’s only because you haven’t paid attention when we traveled the Riverlands together.” He shifts closer, and when she shows no sign of objection, slightly a bit more. “You were too busy hating me then—”

“And you were too busy insulting me,” she throws it back at him. “Remember?”

“Fine—” he raises a hand in a gesture of peace “—we shouldn’t waste away this beautiful night arguing about the past.” 

Brienne accepts his truce, looks up again at the objects of her interest. “Father used to say one can find their departed loved ones among the stars above,” she starts explaining, a distant smile on her lips.

“Mine used to say that, too,” he spins his own tale, using this thread as a chance to hold on to, to weave something _more_. “My mother, Myrcella—” he follows her gaze to the studded sky, starts counting, one each for every loved one he’s lost “—father and Tommen—” He breaks away, wants to know more about her, _all_ that he can gather. “Who do you see in them, Brienne?”

“My mother—” Something shifts in her features and Jaime is dragged towards a sudden urge to draw her in his arms and hold her tight, to keep her safe from the ills of the world. “My brother Galladon, my sisters—”

“And Renly?” he wants to know, when she pauses wistfully, almost dreamily.

“And Renly,” she sighs in agreement.

“Are you… still in love with him?” he asks before he can stop himself, her limitless devotion for the dead man piercing him with a stab of doubt. “Still—” 

She goes all stiff and evasive again. “What more do we have in common?”

“Well—” Pushing aside Renly for a moment, he pushes his brain to work. “We’re both heirs to our houses—”

“Every house is bound to have one like us—”

“—heirs who’ve pushed away our birthright, our responsibilities, Brienne,” Jaime stresses, challenging her attempt to disagree. “We’ve turned against our fathers’ wishes, chosen to steer away from the paths they desired for us.” He reminisces about his past, of all the arguments he’s had, of how hard he’s tried to stay close to his sister. “Father used to say my destiny lay elsewhere, not in the Kingsguard, not with—” _Cersei,_ he almost says, but holds back. “He’s reasoned with me, advised me, stretching his persuasion skills to the extent of negotiation when kinder methods have failed.” 

“Mine used to say the same,” she reflects, wandering into the realms of her mind. A hush falls over, and in the peace of the night, he can hear every breath she takes. “He still might, perhaps, should I happen to return to him someday.”

More than her breathing, Jaime can hear his own heartbeat, hammering away, nudging him to get through this and get to his point. “Do you—” he pauses when she suddenly shifts her eyes to his, sapphires outshining the brilliance of the moon and the countless diamonds in the sky “—want to return to your father?”

He gets no more than a mild smile and a dismissive, “What else do we have in common apart from stargazing and our fathers attempting to thrust us into the jaws of a future we never desired?”

“We’re both knights,” he quips, bringing up the next best thing that crosses his mind.

“Ser Davos is a knight, too,” she argues back, determined to outplay him at this. “And there’ll be others—” 

“We’ve both spent years desiring someone who’s no more than a loved one,” he rushes out with it, his impatience sparing him no more, “and not the one we love, Brienne.” A risk it is, concluding on her behalf like this, but it is one he’s willing to take, he _has to_ take. “Renly, you said, was a loved one—”

“He still is,” she insists, but from the way she presses her lips together, shuffles her weight from one leg to the other, he can make out he’s on the right path.

“So is Cersei. But just that.” He notices her drumming her fingertips on the thick breadth of the wall. “Whereas you and I—” he reaches out to close his hand on hers, his fingers pressing down, calming her restless ones “—have we both not realized what we truly want?”

“What do we want, Ser Jaime?” She torments him with a gentle smile, this coy side of her he's unfamiliar with. “To give up the revelry and our friends downstairs? To come up here into the cold to be by ourselves? To count stars—”

He shakes his head, gets close enough to feel the heat of her body. “To seek comfort elsewhere, perhaps? To finally be where we’re meant to be?” He leans away from the wall and towards her, tilts his face to hers, lingers by her lips, almost there, but not just yet. “To draw warmth from—”

He lets go of her hand to stroke her neck, his thumb gently feeling her throat, absorbing her pulse. He can sense it soar beneath his skin, can hear her heart dance to his rhythm. He moves further, caressing her hair, and when he can wait no longer, when she parts her lips and closes her eyes, he brings this agony to an end. The second his lips touch hers, he’s drawn to her, the pull of desire between them, unbeatable, insatiable. Her arms go around him when he wraps her in an embrace, and when he deepens the kiss, he can feel her let go, feel her body sag against his as she takes him in with a sigh, a moan and so much more. 

This kiss—oh fuck, this is more than just that, more than anything his mind has ever conjured. It is— 

Their lips sealed together, they sing the same song, move as one, cold and dry thawing into a heated softness as they melt into each other. He’s led farther and further, enticed into a web he wants no freedom from, the fire he wants to burn in, rapidly starting to consume him. 

The thrust of tongues—hot and hungry, needy and demanding, his wine for tonight, he drinks her in, quenches what he’s certain will re-emerge as soon as this spell is broken. 

It is all she hasn’t told him ever, all that he’s ever wanted to hear. 

It is the beginning, the end and everything in between. 

_She_ is.

“This wonderful sensation—this—” he pants, hand lost in her hair, his forehead pressed to hers when they’re compelled to breathe “—I’ve never felt _like this_ about anyone before.”

Her fingers make themselves at home on his cheek, stroke his beard. “Nor have I.”

“It’s a long way until dawn,” he murmurs, a pleasurable wave rushing through him when he kisses her again, thinks of all that he’s been yearning to do. “How do you propose we spend the night?”

“By staying here and gazing away at the sky?” she jests, her smile tugging at his heart. “You do enjoy stargazing, don’t you?”

“Oh, I have a better idea—something much _warmer_.” He brings his lips to her ear, whispers his intent, then draws away to catch the look in her eyes. “What do you think, Ser Brienne?”

“I think—” Even in the moonlight he can make out the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I think that you and I do have _a lot_ in common, Ser Jaime,” she agrees, at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading yet another installment of my random ramblings.  
> Your comments are a huge motivation to keep posting, so do let me know what you think.


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